


Just In Lust

by dysphorie



Series: Kinktober 2019 [2]
Category: John 5 (Musician), Marilyn Manson (Band), Slipknot (Band), Tim Sköld (Musician)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Cuckolding, Jealousy, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Oral Sex, Trust Issues, and tims a fucking mess ok, jim and john are lost in the sauce, leave me alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 13:13:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20874773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dysphorie/pseuds/dysphorie
Summary: "Things is wrong, and things is rightThings got a way of changin' overnightWhat's so wrong in turnin' on?Instead of being alone when the chances are gone"Kinktober 2019. 02: cuckolding





	Just In Lust

Tim wanted this. He has to keep reminding himself, this was his idea and he wants this. John had tried to talk him out of it, Jim had tried to talk them both out of it, but Tim was determined.

He knows John's in love with him, but he knows John's in lust with Jim, and he's not sure which emotion is stronger to be honest. Also if he's honest with himself, he's in lust with the idea of watching his tiny John get absolutely wrecked by a giant like Jim. Cos Tim's taller and wider and stronger than John, but Jim is a beast that makes them all look like matchstick men, and Tim's hands tremble where he buries his face in then when he thinks about what John will look like under those enormous paws Jim calls hands.

Tim wants them to act like he's not there, so he sits in the corner, back to the window so he's fully in silhouette. His dick is rock hard in his jeans and he's the only one in the room for christ's sake. It's ridiculous. He grinds at his hard-on with the heel of his hand, trying to will it away so he doesn't peak too early.

_Jesus fuck_, Tim nearly creams his jeans in sheer fright when the hotel room door bangs open, and his heart's in this throat because of that and the fact that John's got Jim latched to his face, Jim's big hands lost in those platinum locks. They don't acknowledge Tim, only concerned with each other as they fall against the nearest wall. John's panting, Jim dropping to his knees to press warm firm kisses across John's prominent hipbones and flat stomach, before those long fingers hook into his pants and Jim's stripped John completely from the waist down in one fell swoop. Tim doesn't dare make a sound, doesn't want to break the spell they're all under, and he has to bite his fist when Jim takes John right down his throat in one gulp.

Holy shit. Tim has a gag reflex (or lack thereof) to rival Linda Lovelace herself, and even he has to work up to taking someone down like that. A pang of jealousy flares, maybe they've been fooling around prior to making their way to the room? Tim can't be angry at them either way. And watching Jim such John's dick is an experience in itself, so he's still a lucky fucker; Jim puts his all in, moaning and groaning and rolling John's balls in one wide palm, and Tim's not sure he's ever found sucking John's dick this hot even when doing it himself.

Then Jim has to go and make Tim look like a fucking chump. A sweep of the leg, a hooked wrist, and suddenly John's flat against the wall and Jim's standing up, still sucking John down while he straddles Jim's face. Tim nearly passes the fuck out. Never in a month of Sundays could he do that, pin someone against a wall six feet in the air while he swallows around them again and again and again. John looks lost to the ages, and Tim's overwhelmed with feelings of inadequacy.

Which, lets face it, is probably the entire point of this exercise.

Tim's never been into cuckolding really. He hasn't had any need to be, his partners have never looked elsewhere, and sure he feels a tad big-headed, but with good reason; Tim knows what he's doing, and he makes sure his partners know as much. He also knew how John felt about Jim, and it started giving him Thoughts. Thoughts that led him to suggest this. Jim's giving him a run for his money. Tim's dick is fucking drooling because he's watching Jim throw John down on his bed like he weighs nothing, pulling Tim's favourite squeak from his boyfriend which is quickly swallowed by Jim's hungry mouth. It makes his dick twitch. He feels sick.

A sick, queasy feeling that spreads down his hips, up his thighs, pools in his groin and tightens as he watches them writhe and squirm on the bed. John looks impossibly small under Jim's bulk and Tim wants to rescue him, drag him out from under Jim but he's stuck. Stuck where he said he'd be, promising not to interfere with anything that happens. They'd agreed their limits. Anything outwith that is open season.

Which is probably why Jim is currently working his tongue in and around John's asshole, John bent in half with Jim making him keen and moan and cause Tim's cock to leak obscenely. He finally relents and pulls himself out, gives himself a few tugs, knowing not to start too hard too early but too horny to resist at least a little relief. He has to admit, he's pleased to see how attentive Jim is; he seems purely focused on John and making sure he feels as good a possible, and at the end of the day, that's all Tim cares about.

  
Or at least, that's all Tim thought he cared about. Like this entire night is designed to make him jealous and possessive but he didn't bargain with feeling inadequate too. He's not convinced John's ever made those pleading whines or sweet little moans with him before, and for all how much they make his cock jerk in his underwear, they also make his heart clench. But he wanted this. Wants this. So did John. So did Jim. But mostly Tim. He admits it to himself then. It's never been his thing but now he wants it so badly.

The two figures have swapped places, John straddling Jim and Tim thinks he must've blacked out for a second because John's hand is reached behind him, three fingers deep in his own ass, and if he strains he can hear John whispering to Jim about how much he likes him, how desperate he is, how good he knows Jim's dick is going to feel once it's inside him. Jim's replying in a breathless voice, wheezy and fragile sounding (Tim has to bite his lip, he hadn't expected such an emotive sound from someone he considered brutish, for the want of a better word) that he's wanted John for so long, that he's so jealous of Tim, that he still can't quite believe they're here doing this right now. Tim's dick swells in time with his ego, an unexpected little plump that he's ridiculously thankful for. He's not sure why Jim, with his height and soft features and apparently delicate disposition, would ever think he didn't have a chance with John. Jim is John's wet dream and Tim knows it in his gut. He pushes it down though; this really isn't the best time for self-doubt.

When John's finished opening himself up and sat upright, guiding Jim's dick to his hole, Tim decides he's put it off long enough. Licking and salivating into his hand, he works it with a loose grip, clenching tighter and tighter as John sinks down onto Jim's dick. He's imagining it's his own, that that warm slick body was enveloping him instead of the other man. It's almost too much for Tim once John's fully seated and he starts rolling his hips. Still neither man has spared Tim a glance and Tim knows they know he's there, it's just that he might as well not be. They're both completely lost in each other and tears prick at Tim's eyes when he sees how reverently they're looking at each other.  
This isn't just a fuck to scratch an itch. Tim might actually have to deal with this after tonight. The idea of sharing John, his John, makes his stomach roil and his cock stiffen immeasurably, and he starts working himself at the same pace as John's grinding his hips into Jim's. Jesus fuck, it's good. He never gets to see John from these angles and oh, he's beautiful. All silken curves and bony angular facets. He's an inexplicably elegant mixture of textures and it makes Tim dizzy. It hurts.

As long as John's happy. That's what matters. He just repeats it to himself inside his head over and over again. Chances are Jim and John can't hear the smack of skin on skin coming from Tim's corner over their own soft panting and huffed moans, so he doesn't bother muffling himself. It's easiest the hottest view of John Tim's ever had. They get faster, they get louder. Tim gets faster, he gets quieter. He really doesn't want to interrupt their fucking.

Fucking. Tim's not sure about that. There's something in John's voice and Jim's touch that is screaming "lovemaking" but he can't, won't be convinced he's watching that. Because that's not a limit they'd discussed because it's not anything Tim expected to happen. He tells himself that when Jim sits up and pulls John against him in his lap, tight and tender and with tears in his eyes that Tim can see catch the light from here, it's fine and it's just really hot seeing those long arms wrapped around John's skinny body. Not romantic and close and fucking achingly beautiful. It doesn't make Tim feel sick in the slightest. Nope. His dick's still hard and he's still touching himself so he must be fine with this.

John's moans are soft and muffled where his face is pressed against Jim's neck, but Tim doesn't miss the change in volume, the way his hips roll a bit faster, and then Jim is whispering "That's it baby," and Tim hears it clear as day. His temper flares and he wants to pull John away, but before he can react John stills in Jim's lap, breath hitching once, twice, then gushing out all at once in a sweet cry. Tim knows John just came.

_John just came and he's never made that noise for Tim before_.

Tim's hand stills on his dick as John rolls his hips into Jim a few more times before those huge hands make him stop, and Jim goes stiff and moans and Tim wants him to shut the fuck up because it's breathless and beautiful and he's so so fucking jealous that John is giving Jim that pleasure and not giving it to Tim. It's his, after all, because John's his. He repeats that to himself as they fall apart, lying on the backs to catch their breath before grabbing tissues and haphazardly cleaning each other up. Jim spends a little longer than necessary making sure John's ass is ok, Tim notices, and then they're quiet. They talk in hushed whispers that Tim can't make out, but he can see their fingers mapping each others faces and Jim dropping kisses in John's head as he gathers John against him.

Neither of them acknowledge Tim. He tucks himself back into his clothes, erection completely lost. He feels a bit lost.

  
Tim watches for a long time after they've both fallen asleep. From here he can see how John is nestled against Jim's broad chest, fingers twined in the hair there. Matching sated smiles still cross their features, distinctly at peace.

Tim feels sick.

**Author's Note:**

> dysphorie-by-the-sea.tumblr.com


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